Robbie's Secret
by Seraina
Summary: "He doesn't want it confirmed, but he trusts his mother not to lie to him. She might baby him, but death has always been serious. But now he's starting to think he's missed something. Something important. Because now both his parents are standing over him, shielding him from the unknown corpse." Takes Place after "The Love God"
1. Part-Time Job

Robbie's Secret

The sun isn't even up when Robbie's alarm goes off. He's been awake for an hour already, yawning as he sent a few texts to Tambry. He knows she won't be awake yet, but he figures he should be proactive since he'll be busy all day today. He puts on his best scowl, purposely not looking back at the mess in his room.

He heads downstairs to find that his mom left him some French toast, still warm in the oven. He glances over the loving note she left on the coffee pot, reminding him to make a fresh pot when he's done. He briefly considers leaving the pot empty, but doesn't, because despite how annoying his parents are, he does love them. He can hear someone step into the kitchen after him. "Almost done." He dumps his dirty dishes in the sink and moves along.

He doesn't bother changing out of his pajamas as he grabbed the vacuum out of the closet and runs the ancient sweeper over the old-style carpet pattern in the room that he hates stepping into.

He daydreams and sings under the cover of the noise because it helps not thinking about what will fill this room later. "Cleaning the floor… oh yeah cleaning the floor!" He half-assed wound the vacuum cord around the handle and stashed it in the closet, now that his morning tasks are complete and he can leave the stifling room behind for now.

His mother got to his closet again because he can easily find the black suit, still in the plastic wrapper from the cleaners. He's glad that his friends have been lucky. No one from his class has ever needed his family's services, so he doesn't need to be seen dressed up in front of his friends. He's been tying his own ties since he was old enough to wear a real one and wants that knowledge kept secret from Nate and Lee.

He sneers at the strange clean-cut looking teenager in the mirror and grabs the large case from the corner of the room and hauls it downstairs. Thompson is the only one who knows Robbie still plays the cello, though he's pretty sure that the guy will take that secret to the grave. He has to roll his eyes at that thought, considering where he is as he sets up a chair in the corner beside several flower arrangements and away from casket.

"Sweetie, thank you so much for helping out today. I know you'd rather be with your little friends."

"It's fine, Mom. So uh… I forgot to ask who…" He doesn't want to look over at the third person in the room with them. He doesn't want it confirmed, but he trusts his mother not to lie to him. She might baby him, but death has always been serious.

But now he's starting to think he's missed something. Something important. Because now both his parents are standing over him, shielding him from the unknown corpse. He's been ignoring the presence that's been following him since last night. He's gotten good at ignoring them. This one has been kind enough to keep quiet and just watch. He glances down and to the side and does not react when he sees Nate's younger brother standing there, his eyes dead and his head at an unnatural angle. "Wh-what happened?"

"Robbie, he fell down the stairs. It wasn't anyone's fault." His father's hands press into his shoulders and he clutches the neck of his cello for support. He glances down again at the ghost he knew no one else could see.

"I… I need a minute," he mutters in a rush and hears his mother fumble with the forgotten instrument as he runs out the back door. A minute later, he turns to see his dead companion still behind him. "What happened? Really?"

The boy whose name escaped him, Nick? Looks up despite the damage to his neck. "I was running inside. I tripped on the rug. I-I was supposed to be old enough to stay at home alone!" The little dead boy, who couldn't be any older than the Pines twins, flings himself at Robbie.

This isn't the first time ghosts have touched him. They always want to touch him. To talk. Make contact. But he can't refuse his friend's brother, so he hugs the boy back. "I know this is scary. And I know you think you're not done yet. But you can't stay here. It's… it's not good for you or your family. Do you understand?"

"Robbie?"

"Yeah Nicky?" The boy's name pops in his head and he tries not to look when he sees how the boy falls and lands.

"Where am I supposed to go?" He looks so young. Dammit why did he have to lead them to their destinations? What did he ever do to deserve this?

"We have to wait until after the funeral. Then I'll take you to the right path."

The boy sniffles and nods and Robbie quickly breathes and heads back inside. His parents fuss over him, but he reassures them that he'll be fine. He picks up his instrument and finishes tuning as his father greets Nate's dad.

He tries to lose reality in the classical piece he's been playing in this room since he was seven. Nicky sits at his feet and listens intently.

"Robbie?"

"Nate…" Robbie jumps up and grabs his friend, pulling his arms around the taller man. "It's gonna be okay, alright?" He mutters and can feel Nicky's arms wrap around him. Ghosts can touch him, but they have difficulty touching other people. He's started calling this the 'proxy hug'.

"Robbie I… the… the cello… seriously?" He knows Nate doesn't know what else to say, so he takes the lame insult.

"Yeah well, it has its badass moments. Look, just… this won't take too long." He finishes lamely, knowing that there's nothing he can really say to make his friend feel better. He's relieved when Tambry, Wendy and Lee show up and take care of Nate. He makes another lame excuse to get back to the music and does his best to shut out everyone else.

He knows the ceremony by heart and for once begs off of driving the hearse this time; which used to be the only enjoyable part of any funeral procession. Instead, he finds himself in the back seat of Thompson's mother's car with Tambry and Wendy.

"You were really good, Robbie." Wendy and Tambry ask him questions about his playing and he answers them, trying not to think about the ghost kid sitting in his lap.

"After the church is the graveyard. You guys should stick close to Nate. That's usually the hard part," he mumbles to nodding heads.

The church funeral was long, but by noon they were at the graveyard. Robbie separated himself from his friends and family and gestured for Nicky to follow him behind one of the older mausoleums. "Alright, Nicky. Thanks for being quiet. But we don't have much time. You're going to have to wait by your grave until you get picked up."

"You won't be there with me?" Fear filled the dead child's voice.

"No I… I don't know if I can stay that long," he pokes his head out from behind the stone structure.

"Please Robbie! I don't want to be alone!" Nicky begs, clinging to his jacket.

"Alright! I'll stay, but you have to be quiet until everyone leaves." He leads Nicky by the hand back to the crowd of mourners. He holds onto Nicky's hand tightly as the casket is lowered. No one notices him and for that, he is grateful.

He gives a lame excuse about having more things to do and his friends believe him. They go back to the church hall for a pithy lunch of casseroles and tears. Robbie waits until the hole is filled with fresh earth. He and Nicky are alone now, sitting in the grass in front of the fresh dirt.

"Okay Nicky, your ride will be here soon. Be good because he usually doesn't take any sh-crap." He pulls his wallet out of his pocket and finds two pennies and sets them on top of the polished marble. "Don't touch those, they aren't for you. It's kind of like… cab fare."

Nicky listens and nods.

"I don't know where you go after you get picked up, but… I'm sure you'll be fine." Robbie babbles, not knowing what else to say to the kid. He's been doing this for years, ever since his grandmother passed when he was eight and her ghost taught him what to do.

A bright flash in the air opens a tear hovering into space. Robbie quickly stands up and gestures for Nicky to do the same. A dark figure steps up to Robbie, who quickly points to the pennies on the grave. As the payment is collected, Robbie ruffles Nicky's hair. "Be good for him. He'll take care of you."

"Bye Robbie." Nicky hugs him again and then takes Death's hand.

Robbie drops down into the grass, hating the way that the graveyard feels more like home than the house he grew up in. He hates that he can't talk about this without somehow forgetting and then remembering again when another ghost shows up in his room at night.

His phone vibrates and he sees Tambry's text. "Where R U?"

He smiles as he types a reply. "Finishing up chores. Hang out later?"

Robbie gets up and heads back home, where his mom will ignore the grass and dirt stains on his suit and just get it cleaned for next time. By now he's sure they suspect, but they've never said a word. Whenever he returns from the graveyard, they just smile and hug him and tell him they love him.

For now, at least, it is still Robbie's secret. And he plans on taking it to the grave again and again and again until it's his turn to need a guide.


	2. Witnesses

Robbie brushes off his jeans and climbs out of the open grave. His friends think he's insane for lounging around the graveyard, but he feels at home here and can't accurately put that in words. He walks the path towards the older section of the graveyard where the old timers stay. They exchange words and he makes the offer to help… as usual, they refuse. They wait for something that probably won't come, but it's not his place to order them around.

"Robbie! Robbie get back! Ghosts!" The Pines twins are running towards him so he throws his hands out to try to stall their approach.

"Qr! Vwdv edfm Glsshu!" Robbie shouts, still speaking the language of the spirits without thinking.

"Gosh Dipper! He's speaking in tongues! He must be possessed!" Mabel shrieks and pulls a grappling hook out from underneath her sweater. Grappling hook?

"Stop! Stop I'm not speaking in tongues!" Technically he was, but that's not the point. The old ghosts are powerful and do not tolerate the living.

"Get back ghosts!" Dipper wields his stupid book like some kind of knight's shield.

"Robert, take your friends and go home." Robbie nods and grabs each kid by the arm and hauls them away towards the less haunted areas of the cemetery.

"What the hell are you two doing here?" He glares at the so-called "Mystery Twins".

"What are _you_ doing here?" Dipper counters, putting his hands on his hips.

"I'm here all the time. That's normal for me. Those guys don't mess around; they will kill you for not respecting their territory. What were you thinking?" He feels like an idiot for saying it out loud. He glances around for the men in the red robes. He knows they've taken his memories before then gave them back afterwards. It seems that he's allowed to remember ghosts, even if it makes him feel like a freak.

"Wait, you talk to ghosts all the time?" Mabel starts jumping up and down with excitement.

"What? No. Yes." He sighs and flops down in the grass, lounging against one of the tombstones. "Fine. I see and talk to dead people. Are you happy now?"

"I have soooo many questions." Dipper flips open his battered book and starts clicking a pen incessantly.

Robbie sighs, knowing he'll have to put up with the twerps until the Men in Red show up. They're late this time. "I'll only answer until I'm bored. Then I'm out of here."

"Okay, uhh… let's see… how long have you been able to see and talk to ghosts?"

"Since, like, forever." He discards his idea of giving bad answers. Dipper is a smart kid and it might be nice to have someone to actually talk to. "But I didn't know what it was until I was eight."

"Wait, you were speaking another language. But the ghosts I've encountered speak English." Mabel starts picking wild daisies and weaving them into a wreath. Dipper just continues to stare at him.

"Well yeah but it's an etiquette thing. You want to be taken seriously, you learn their language. Just like a business deal." He leans over to try to read the musty old journal in Dipper's lap.

"That's so cool, Robbie! You're helping them." Mabel stops in front of the fresh grave and carefully arranges the flower wreath to remove the dead flowers.

"Okay so… what do you do with them?" Dipper clicks his pen again and again.

Robbie wants to grab the pen and fling it into the woods. "The new ones just need a point in the right direction. Unlike regular morons, I'm like a ghost magnet. They come find me when they don't know what to do. Or they don't remember where they are. I guess it helps that my parents are morticians." He never thought of the connection before, but saying it out loud makes too much sense. "My family has been in that business for a long time."

He vividly remembers his grandfather's funeral home and how the thick drapes were perfect for hiding in. He would play for hours with children that no one else could see. And for years he had to go to speech therapy because no one could understand him, except his "imaginary" friends.

"What do you do with them when they find you?" Dipper's pen clicks and Mabel has moved on to refreshing the other flowers nearby.

"Well… it's all very technical and complicated. I make sure they get picked up on time. Or if they have other business… sometimes that has to happen before they get picked up." He struggles trying to explain without scaring them. Can a twelve-year-old really understand what death means? Would Dipper Pines really understand the cold hands that wake him from sleep and the way that he feels so natural and relaxed here among the dead and loathes the touch of the living?

"What 'other business'?" Dipper finally stops clicking his pen and Robbie takes that moment to collect his thoughts into something that might actually make sense. He hates that it's Dipper that he can talk about this with, but it could be worse. Tambry can't stand the thought of death. She doesn't even like hanging out at his house.

"Look… most of them… they can't touch us. Or things. Or contact other people. So… so they get me to do it for them. I do get paid."

"What do they pay you with, Ghost money?" Mabel sits herself down beside him, her knees curled up underneath her long sweater.

"It's hard to explain. I'm not really supposed to say." Again he tries to read Dipper's handwriting on the old paper. "What's with all the questions anyway? I'm not some kind of freak!" He looks around again, still no sign of the Men in Red. They must be busy today.

"Who do you keep looking for?" Mabel gasps, putting her hands on her face. "Were you going to meet your ghost lover?!"

"What? No! You _know_ I'm still seeing Tambry. Usually when I talk to people about this these guys in red robes and hoods show up and take them away. Then the person comes back and they don't remember anything. I'm waiting for them to take you away now." He stands up, anxious now that he's said far too much and the men haven't come by. "They're usually all over this."

"Oh you mean the Blind Eye Society? They've been disbanded." Dipper closes his book casually and looks far too pleased with himself.

"Yeah! They won't bother anyone anymore. So it looks like you're stuck with us!" Mabel hooks Robbie's arm with her own.

Robbie blinks, unbelieving at first… but it does make sense. Still, he wouldn't dare tell Wendy that he first approached her back in the seventh grade because he found her mom sitting at his kitchen table. "It's still a secret. **My** secret. So if you tell anyone, I'll _personally_ hand you off to the Ferryman!" He stands and brushes off his jeans again, leaving the weird twins behind.

He uses the camera on his phone to take a look back at the twins and grins. They look sufficiently terrified now, so he's pretty sure they won't run back to where the old ghosts are. Being responsible like this makes him hungry. He meets Tambry at the mall and kisses her.

"Robbie, seriously! Have you been in the graveyard again?" Tambry fusses over the dirt stains on his jeans.

"Just for a little bit. I can go home and change if you want me to," he attempts to calm her down. His usual excuses of "having to work" are getting old, even though he's sure none of his friends would actually ask what he does all day.

He's glad they don't ask. Because he likes having friends. They won't be there if he tells them. They won't conveniently forget about it the next day. It will be real then. Permanent. He's not supposed to leave witnesses.


	3. Special Needs

_Sorry that this chapter is so short. I had this and the last chapter on my hard drive for months but I finally decided to post them._

* * *

Four-year-old Robbie runs through the empty parlor with a loud giggle. "F ybq vlr tlk'q cfka jb!"

Beth Valentino forces herself not to run after her son. He seems to be having fun and the smile on his face is so rare that she can't bring herself to ruin his day.

"You worry too much, Beth." She looks over at her mother-in-law and manages a smile.

"I know, I just… the doctor can't figure out what's wrong with him. They want him to go to a specialist. A speech therapist."

"Clrka vlr! Jv qrok!" More inane giggles follow and the thump of a small body tripping over the carpet.

"He's fine. Kids fall down. I wouldn't worry about him talking. He's still young. I'm sure he'll get it before he has to start kindergarten."

Beth sighs, "He's already missed two years of pre-k. He just doesn't have any social skills. When we take him to day care, he just… freezes up. They think he's got too many problems to take him back."

"Can you finish up here? I'm going to make sure he doesn't pull down the drapes. My Johnny always loved hiding behind them when he was little." She watches her husband's mother go into the room with her son.

"Mom knows what she's doing, sweetie." Her husband appears from the back room and washes his hands in the kitchen sink.

* * *

Robbie puts a hand over his mouth as he hides from Grandma and Johnny. He likes visiting because at least he has someone to play with here. Not like at day care where the other kids call him names and push him down.

Suddenly, the curtain pulls away from him and he sneezes and looks up as his Grandma joins him in the curtained-off room. "Hide and seek again?"

Robbie nods. "Yes."

Grandma is the only one that can understand him. He doesn't know why Mom and Dad don't. He hates the doctor asking him what's wrong and making him repeat lessons and lying in loud tubes for hours.

"You will have to start speaking English, Robbie." She leads him to a wooden bench and he climbs up on it.

"B-but… I d-don't like it. It's _hard_." He whines and crosses his arms across his chest.

"I know it's hard. I was like you when I was a little girl. But you have to speak to your parents in English. They don't understand our language. They _can't_."

Why couldn't they understand? He knows what they're saying. Shouldn't it work the other way around? "I don't want to."

"Robbie, sweetie, do you want to keep having to see those doctors? "

"No! I hate them!" He hates the smell of the offices, and the way that they look at him. He tries to tell them he's fine, but they just look at him like he's not even there.

"Then you have to start trying to speak English to the living. Do you know how to tell the difference?"

He shakes his head. Grandma isn't making sense.

"Robbie, if you promise to speak English to everyone, I'll tell your parents to bring you here when they have to work. Would you like that?"

"And I can play with Johnny instead of the mean kids?" He brightens, Johnny is much more fun anyway. He hopes she says yes.

He's not sure what the look on her face means, but she smiles. "Yes sweetie, you can come here and play with Johnny. But you have to promise to try English, okay?"

He nods and then looks over at Johnny, who is jumping up and down.

"Okay, dinner's almost ready. Go wash your hands."

* * *

Two months later, Beth sits in bed reading while waiting for her husband to come to bed. "You know, James, I can't believe how much Robbie's improved since we pulled him out of day care."

"I knew Mom would help. My little brother was the same way." He never mentions his brother casually. James was so protective of Johnny, but when his brother got sick there was nothing that her husband could do.

"Robbie's imaginary friend is named Johnny." Beth thinks out loud, though it's probably a silly coincidence. She falls asleep easily, glad that her son seems better. All that talk of retardation and autism are gone. Sure her son is different, but now she doesn't have to hear the horrified gasps of other mothers at church. Everything will be just fine now. Everyone would see how sweet her little boy is. How creative he is. How special.

One day she'll show him all about the family business, both in this world and the next.


	4. Not What He Seems

_Now here is where we get into some of the heavier plot stuff. Takes place during "Not What He Seems"_

* * *

Robbie's fingers danced across guitar strings, grinning like an idiot at Tambry as she danced around her living room. Her parents were gone, yet again so it made her house a much better hangout than his. Besides, even though she liked the darker side of things, the funeral home was a little too creepy for her tastes.

Tambry sighed contentedly as she flopped on the couch beside him, cuddling up against his shoulder. "What should we do now?" She glanced at her phone on the table, then at him.

"I don't know; we could hang out with the gang. I'm sure Nate probably wants to escape for a few hours." Robbie set the guitar down and wrapped his arm around his girlfriend.

"Yeah, Lee says he's still pretty broken up. I mean, I would be too but… you know. Wendy said she might be free today." She picked up her phone and started her social networking ritual, easily locating their friends and trying to coordinate everyone's Saturday plans. Obsessive? Maybe a little bit, but it just meant that at any point in time, she wouldn't have to be so lonely in the big, empty house while her parents decided to go who-knows-where on some kind of retreat, holiday or umpteenth honeymoon.

She looked over at her boyfriend again; he'd been down since Nate's little brother's funeral. "Hey, you okay?"

"What? Yeah, yeah I'm alright." He pulled away slightly and ran his fingers through his hair.

"I know something's up, Robbie. You haven't been yourself lately." She slipped the phone in her pocket and wraps herself around him again. Somehow, Robbie is always cold despite the thick hoodie and fingerless gloves he'd been wearing since she's met him. Over the past couple of weeks, he'd dialed down the body spray use; which only made it more obvious that he smelled like freshly turned earth from the graveyard. It wasn't a bad smell, but it was weird. Understandable though, since he does so much maintenance at the graveyard. She's never asked, but she assumes he digs graves. That would explain the toned arms that he hides underneath layers of cloth.

"I'm fine." He tried to shrug her off, but she's too persistent. "I was thinking about Nicky."

She's surprised by his admission. He never really interacted with the boy before. "Yeah?" But she feared anything more than a gentle prodding will make him slip back into his apathetic shell once more. She waited, twining her fingers with his.

"It was just another funeral; you know? But it wasn't. I guess… I guess I'm still kind of weirded-out you all had to see that." He mumbled, looking down at his worn shoes.

"Robbie… just because you work for your parents doesn't mean I'll think any less of you. Actually, I thought you were pretty amazing. You clean up pretty well." She smiled, trying to make him smile. She won't tell him that his sleek black suit made several appearances in her daydreams, his ego would inflate too large and that's not the real Robbie.

"I guess that's not exactly what I meant." He seemed to consider something then just shook his head. "It's not really important. So what're we doing?"

She pulled her phone from her pocket to check her messages when she found herself violently flung to the floor with a loud thump. "What the hell Robbie!?"

Robbie was awkwardly sprawled on the couch, a look of surprise on his face. "I didn't do it! Everything just… moved. Earthquake?"

A quick swipe to her phone and she saw some scattered posts from various reliable people about the tremor, but nothing official from the local news. "Maybe it's like, all that fracking?"

"Maybe. Let's get out of here." He slung his guitar case over his back, then reached both hands down to help her off the floor. He was a little rough around the edges, but he's sweet in his own way. She remembered a time when he was the shy little boy in class with an imaginary friend. When he only ate lunch with Thompson.

Tambry took his hands and stood, slipping her shoes back on before they head out. Sirens blared somewhere but it was probably just the earthquake. People in California would laugh at them for worrying about such a small tremble. On a whim, they went in a little-known field tucked between the cemetery and the highway, neat rows of trees separating them from traffic and the resting dead. She wanted to go to the park, but Robbie liked this field better. Less people around so he could be himself. She won't fault him that. She had her own issues that he's super cool about, she can give him this.

They were close friends before Mabel set them up together. Robbie was in Nate's grade and Nate and Lee had been friends forever. Robbie reluctantly brought Thompson to the group. She and Wendy were friends since they were three and hadn't bothered to expand their friend circle. Looking back on it, it was when she and Wendy were in seventh grade, shortly after Wendy's mom died, when Robbie up and sat down at their lunch table. Robbie hadn't been one of the "cool kids". He was in eighth grade, and on top of that a year older than most of the other kids. Nate, Lee and Thompson eventually followed him in the hostile takeover of the girls' lunchtime. At first it was annoying. Robbie barely said anything, but Nate and Lee would start conversations. Thompson would say something stupid. They would all laugh. Slowly, eventually Tambry saw her friend emerge from the sadness. Robbie brought them together, but he was often the loner in the group.

"Hey." Robbie was lying in the grass turned on his side, still wearing his hoodie and fingerless gloves despite the hot summer weather. "What're you thinking about?" He watched her, ignoring the hair that fell in his face.

"You." She smiled and brushed his hair out of his eyes. It was a futile effort though; his hair was much more stubborn than she was.

"I know I'm awesome, but… uh… what about me?" His smile faltered a little with some insecure thoughts.

"How you brought our group of friends together. How did you first meet Thompson anyway?" She gently pushed him back in the grass and rested her head on his chest. She wasn't about to get grass and dirt in her hair. Not when she'd just dyed it that morning. Besides, his heartbeat was steady and strong.

He hesitated, like he usually does when asked a direct and personal question. "His mom and mine are friends. Met at church group. They were always making us play together. After a while it just got easier to let him hang around." He seemed a little annoyed by the subject matter, but he was usually nicer to Thompson than the rest of them. Always making sure to include him, or when the teasing got out of hand, he'd pull him away and have a chat… then things would be fine again.

"What about Nate? How'd you meet him?" She indulged her curiosity. They rarely had time alone and today Robbie was just mellow enough to open up about himself and be serious about it. He could easily be coaxed into talking about his band or superficial things, but he kept most things to himself.

"We've always had classes together. And I met Lee through him, since they're best friends. What's with all these questions?" She felt him tense underneath her and she runs a soothing hand through his hair.

"Nothing. Just trying to get to know the infamous Robbie V. better. You don't talk about yourself. I mean, you know, about important stuff. Like why were you held back a year?" She can feel him hold his breath and she hopes he won't shut her out like he does to most people. Up until last week, she didn't know he even played the cello or was that involved in his family's business.

He shifted underneath her and he sat up. She turned and sat facing him. "I don't… like to talk about it. But I was a pretty… sickly kid." He fidgeted some, pulling down the zipper of his hoodie. "I like… didn't talk until I was almost five."

"Really?" She couldn't help the surprise, but she tempered his hurt feelings by holding his hands. "It's fine, you know. To talk about it. To me."

He nodded and sat up. After a few minutes, he unzipped his hoodie and lifted up his tee-shirt. Two large scars crossed his chest, the first long and straight, from his clavicle to just past the bottom of his rib cage. The second was a little more curious, slightly jagged, it started above his heart on the left side of his chest and slanted downward, creating a crooked sort of T. The scars were old, long healed but still frightening. Tambry reached out to trace the line over his heart. "What happened?"

* * *

Robbie looked down at the scars he's had as long as he can remember. He never even showed Wendy. Never told her half the things he finds were easy to admit to Tambry. Was it the fact that the men in red robes, (what did Dipper call them? The Blind Eye Society?), were gone now? That didn't seem entirely right. He never wanted to tell Wendy about the ghost of her mother, sitting at his kitchen table with a green scarf wrapped around her bald head.

He looked up at Tambry, seeing the question in her eyes and he sucked in a breath. "Heart transplant when I was nine." Over Tambry's shoulder he sees the old ghost, Janie Thompson, almost ten years old and eight years dead. His heart skipped a beat. Two. He looked right into Janie Thompson's dead eyes and his chest stopped hurting. "I don't really remember what happened." It was as close of a lie as he told to Tambry. He didn't remember why, but he vividly recalled his childhood best friend resting in the small casket in the parlor and being too tired and sick to go to the funeral. Janie's chubby younger brother giving him a gentle hug.

He bullied Thompson into keeping quiet all these years, not wanting to seem weak in front of the other kids. He already had to contend with being held back a year and the fact that he just didn't get the other kids.

"Are you okay?" Tambry's hands rested on his shoulders, his shirt slipped down while he was pulled aside by ghosts both literal and of memory.

"Y-eah, yeah. I'm fine. Really." He managed a smile for his girlfriend and turned away from the old ghost. "Promise."

Tambry feared abandonment more than anything. Her parents left her alone all the time. Their friends did their best to make sure she is never excluded and it seemed to help her anxiety. But he knew that when he told her those true things, she expected the worst and steeled herself for loneliness. "Good." The quiet stretched between them and she relaxed little by little. "You were held back because you missed so much school?"

"Yeah. Some state law. If you miss over thirty days they make you repeat. No matter what your grades are. And I don't remember having a tutor come. Like I said, it's kind of a blur." He said it out loud and the words sounded strange to him. Like he never thought about it too hard before. But it was true, he never did think about it. Not since he'd sworn Thompson to secrecy with the promise of friendship.

"I'm sure it was. But hey… you got to meet all of us, right? If you were a year ahead, we wouldn't have all been in the same lunch anyway."

He nodded. "Yeah. So. That happened." He briefly wondered if she would just as easily take the news of his… special abilities… as well. She wouldn't. Instead, he changed the subject. "What do want to do for dinner? My mom said you could come over. If you wanted to."

"Yeah? What's she making?"

He relaxed a little, knowing Tambry's dislike of his home. But she'd been by herself for two weeks now and would brave walking past the creepy parlor room for some home-cooked meatloaf.

His thoughts were interrupted when they were both thrown into the air, spinning and suspended for too long a moment. "ROBBIE!"

Tambry shouted and he flailed to get to her, grab her hand. "Hang on Tambry!"

He didn't notice how much his head hurt, but he did notice they ended up in a graceless pile on the not-so-forgiving ground. Robbie's phone started to buzz and he grabbed at it with numb and shaking fingers. "H-hello?"

"Robbie, it's your mother. Come home right _now_." He looked over at his shaken girlfriend.

"Y-yes Mom." He held his hand out for Tambry, picked up his guitar and ran home as fast as he could. Neither of them said a word. This was no earthquake. Earthquakes didn't make something inside him want to snap and pull away from the world. A mere earthquake wouldn't scare Janie Thompson's ghost away.

They reached his house, not far from the graveyard at all, and opened the door. His father greeted him and ushered them inside. "Something is going on outside, Son. It just made your mother feel better if you and Tambry were here and safe."

The teenagers allowed themselves to be fussed over. Robbie's mother smiled and set down a fresh plate of cookies. "You two are good kids. Just sit tight while we finish up." His mother wiped her hands on her apron and moved over too steady the ladder that his father stood on.

Robbie blinked, seeing the changes for the first time. The electricity was out, but several candles and lanterns had been set up but the chalk scrawling around the windows and door were new. He stood and moved over to the window, reaching out his shaking fingers but not touching. He picked up a piece of chalk and corrected some of the diagrams by feel.

"Robbie? What are you doing?" Tambry's nervous voice finally reached his ears.

"What?" He noticed that three pairs of eyes were on him as he continued to move, scratching the odd thing here and there. "_L'p khoslqj!_" He called, not realizing he slipped into the old language again. The one he's not supposed to use around his parents.

His mother stepped up to his work, adjusting her glasses. "Robbie dear, this is amazing. You've sealed up my wards tighter than tar on a sailboat."

His fingers shook and he dropped the chalk and then went down to his knees. Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong as the chalk scrawling faintly glowed a bright green. He felt like there was lead in his chest and he opened his mouth to scream, but only a sad shudder came out.

He could hear his parents and Tambry shouting to him, but the world darkened at the edges until everything was black.


End file.
